


Three Times Infinity

by kiranosaurusrex



Category: Club SLAZY, Club SLAZY - Miura & Ise
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, M/M, Porn With Plot, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8922880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranosaurusrex/pseuds/kiranosaurusrex
Summary: To die by another person’s hand was the ultimate act of love. That was what he believed. That was what he was longing and looking for.
Q didn’t love him the way Bloom might want him to, which was probably why the other never went through with it until the very end but it was always close enough to be more than pleasurable. For both of them. 
~*~
I might be the first person in English speaking fandom to write a Club SLAZY fic but after watching the final installment "Club SLAZY - Final Invitation ~ GARNET ~" I needed an outlet for all my feelings.
There aren't really spoilers for this stage in this, although I guess there are a few things I am alluding to but they were already mentioned or shown in earlier plays (e.g. Fourth Invitation ~ TOPAZ ~ and Another World).
The main pairing in this is Bloom/Q or 8/9, depending on how you look at things. If you squint, there might be some Bloom/Deep but that's more on a "brotherly love" kind of level than on a romantic level. Maybe even fatherly or motherly love because let's face it, 8 and 9 were totally like Junior's parents, raising him and teaching him about life.





	

Bloom put a blanket over Deep, who was passed out drunk on the couch of his changing room at the club. It was an almost daily occurrence. Had been, for a long time. He’d tried to talk to the other about his alcohol problem before but he’d never really done it very seriously. Everyone had their reasons for doing something after all. Junior - no, Deep - had his, well deep reasons. And as Bloom he didn’t really have as much of an influence over and on the other than he had had before. As his old self. As a person Deep had considered to be something like family.

 

He left painkillers and water on the coffee table next to the couch and rose back onto his feet.

 

Turning off the lights, he walked to his own changing room not too far away, only two doors, with just Cool Beans’ between them. Once the door closed behind him, he stripped off his jacket and placed it neatly on a hanger and returned it to the rack. Then he stepped in front of the mirror.

 

Before his fingers could reach for the rest of his clothes, the lights suddenly went out.

 

He’d heard the ever so quiet click of the switch though, so he knew somebody must have turned it off. Somebody who knew how to move silently, unseen. And there was only one person who would be skilled enough to (almost) sneak up on him. Unfortunately for them Bloom knew them very well and would not be caught off guard. Too much.

 

When a pair of hands covered his eyes (unnecessarily?) and a warm body pressed itself against his back, he didn’t even flinch and just let it happen.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked softly, his tone changing, more out of habit than consciously, into the flat and almost emotionless one he had used to speak in, not too long ago. Standing in the darkness made it all too easy to revert back to his former self. Someone who had lived in the shadows, the darkness, never to see the light.

 

“I’m just one of those ghosts you love so much.” A voice whispered.

 

“You’re too warm and alive to be one of those,” Bloom pointed out flatly but something inside of him stirred. That sentence would be truer if one word in it was changed. _I’m just one of those people you love so much._

 

The hands moved down and a pair of arms was wrapped around him, holding him in a loose embrace. Maybe a little too loose. And he used that to his advantage.

 

“You were waiting for me.” Bloom didn’t make it a question. He knew. There was no way the other could have come in after he had. Someone who didn’t possess the same knowledge as Bloom might have been fooled but for him, it was obvious. The other had already been inside.

 

Spinning around, he grabbed the other and almost slammed him down onto the large, plush sofa (this was the Top Ace’s changing room after all). “You know the rules, don’t you?” He leaned down and whispered the words against warm skin. “We’re Mystics. We cannot be seen by anyone. We have to remain forever hidden in the shadows.”

 

He didn’t give the other any opportunity to respond. He knew all he would hear was a witty response after all. Q had always been one to be witty and snarky after all, although Bloom had held his ground against that sometimes. He wasn’t in the mood for word battles, though. Instead he claimed the other’s lips in a heated kiss.

 

A kiss that carried as much desire as it carried longing.

 

A kiss that was as bitter as it was sweet.

 

This had started long before Junior and DooBop had come along. They had always been together like this, somewhere in the shadows, the darkness of the world behind the club. It might have seemed like they hadn’t gotten along well to some people but they had been closer than anyone else. The 8 and the 9 had been a pair.

 

Unlike 1, 2 and 3 they didn’t have to worry about meeting goals or having too many responsibilities. Unlike 4, they weren’t striving to aim for the top ranks so very hard. Unlike 5 and 6 they weren’t resting on their comfortable middle position. Unlike 7, they weren’t so lucky as to get work other than the normal Mystic jobs assigned to them. And unlike 10, they didn’t have to fear about being swallowed up by the shadows completely as they dropped below that line.

 

They had been comfortable. They had been given their little freedoms, like not having to wear hats or getting to wear different hats than others or wearing different clothes than most other Mystics. They had had their responsibilities and jobs, they had had their lives.

 

And they had had each other.

 

When he pulled away, the other did whisper a late reply. The other held grudges, maybe, the other didn’t forget things easily. It came with the job.

 

Bloom laughed softly at the other’s words, which had been hissed sharply into his ear. They had been meant for him and him alone. For only he would understand their true meaning.

 

“Enough talking now.” His lips wandered down to the other’s neck. His answer came in the form of fingernails digging into the skin of his back, through his silk shirt.

 

Biting back a moan, a name fell from his lips then. “Q…”

 

“Shh.”

 

He wasn’t sure if that had been the other trying to silence him in return or whether it had merely been the almost inaudible sound of his shirt sliding down. The rest of their clothes followed soon, going off without too much effort and sliding down onto the ground without a sound.

 

They became one with each other and with the shadows that hid them.

 

For the most part, Q let him have the upper hand. Bloom wasn’t much of a leader, he lived up to his title of ‘number one lazy’ very much sometimes but that was precisely why Q made him work for it. Made him work for what he wanted. But Bloom didn’t mind. Things were different here. Things worked differently between the other and him.

 

Nobody else ever really gave Q something in return for everything that he did for them. Bloom knew it all too well. People tended to forget the existence of the Mystics, of the Shadows and some even did not know about the Tori. They took everything and everyone for granted.

 

So Bloom gave everything to Q. Everything he could that is. Gratitude. Appreciation. Pleasure.

 

And himself.

 

He did so under the other’s careful supervision. Despite being on the receiving end there was no mistake that Q was the one pulling the strings and being in control. 

 

Again, something Bloom didn’t mind. Maybe he even liked it, the moments when Q let his mask of servitude slip and became more honest, more like himself, became more of a person that not many other people knew. 

 

His obedience and effort were rewarded eventually.

 

Bloom had rocked them both closer to their climax at a fast and intense pace. It was when he could almost taste his orgasm already that the other took action.

 

Q rolled them over and straddled his hips. Bloom moaned softly in anticipation of what was to come when he felt the other touching his neck. This is what he kept coming back for. This was what he wanted. The other’s fingers closed around his neck and Q started to squeeze.

 

Feeling his oxygen supply getting cut off should be making him feel uncomfortable. A normal person would struggle and try to get the other to let go but not him. No, Bloom remained motionless and merely stared up into the other’s dark eyes. His fingers only twitched ever so slightly where they were resting on Q’s hips or wrapped around the other’s cock.

 

To die by another person’s hand was the ultimate act of love. That was what he believed. That was what he was longing and looking for.

 

Q didn’t love him the way Bloom might want him to, which was probably why the other never went through with it until the very end but it was always close enough to be more than pleasurable. For both of them. Bloom recognized that little glint in the other’s eyes. It was always there whenever Q felt in power.

 

What the notion of death and getting to the brink of it were for Bloom, were moments of domination and power for Q. Bloom knew the other liked to be in control, liked to know what was going on, liked it when things went according to a plan.

 

Just when the burn of the lack of oxygen started to make his skin crawl, Q let go and with a sharp gasp, Bloom’s body started to suck in air again.

 

He did not make a sound when he reached his climax shortly afterwards as his voice hadn’t quite come back yet. His body was focused on breathing more than on producing sounds. Q tightening around him moments later did draw out a strangled moan from him despite everything. Bloom watched how Q went over the edge and plunged into the same abyss of pleasure that Bloom had fallen into only mere moments ago.

 

The other did it as he did everything else, gracefully and thoroughly.

 

Bloom’s breath was still a little erratic when he felt how Q climbed off him after a few long moments in which both of them had silently ridden out their respective orgasms. The feeling of his lungs burning from their earlier activities was what gradually brought him back to the here and now and he sat up on the couch slightly. He made a soft sound when a wet cloth was slapped onto his abdomen.

 

Somebody had come prepared, he mused. Well, he shouldn’t be surprised really. Q was always prepared. Sitting up properly and swinging his long legs over the edge of the couch, Bloom cleaned himself up and shrugged on a pair of loose sweats.

 

He didn’t get any further because he found himself with a lapful of Q again, as the other snatched the cloth away and disposed for it - somewhere.

 

Warm fingers caressed something on his neck - bruises maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time. He knew how to hide them from others with enough makeup. Personally, he liked them. They were not only proof that he had gotten pretty damn close to heaven, they were also rather decorative.

 

“You’ll forever be stuck in this loop. Your cursed name says it all.” Q caressed his cheek, almost affectionately. “You’ll be trapped in it for eternity. Like your silly endless shiritori games.”

 

Bloom knew it all too well. He was stuck here forever. For his name was eight and eight stood for infinity. Even know his old name was with him, much like Q’s own.

 

And it had been chosen very deliberately. As a curse, just as Q had pointed out. The capital B in Bloom resembled the number 8. As did the two o’s in the middle. And if one put together the l and the m it would make another 8. Three times infinity. An unbreakable loop.

 

“There are worse places to be stuck in,” Bloom murmured. “And you know, I won’t be stuck in it all by myself. You’ll always be following me.” He looked at Q. “The 9 always follows the 8.”

 

“That so?” Q sounded mildly amused and rested his forehead against Bloom’s. His tone changed when he spoke again. It was more honest, more emotional. This was not Q speaking anymore, it was 9. “I still haven’t forgiven you for what you did. So don’t go and get any ideas.”

 

Bloom, too, slipped from his own voice into that of 8. “I do not expect you to forgive me. But I know you understand me. After all, you opened the door.”

 

“That didn’t mean I wanted you to walk through it.”

 

“I know.” He had felt conflicted as well. On the one hand, he had wanted to walk through that door. On the other hand, though, he had wanted to stay where he was.

 

“I lost you and yet I still have you. It’s a mystery how that is even supposed to work.”

 

A smile tugged on the corners of Bloom’s lips. “What’s why you’re Q. You’re in charge of Questions and mysteries. And they will never end because there will always be enough of them to fill three times infinity.” Even in the darkness, he could make out the other’s smile. A rare and honest smile. The other never showed that to anyone else. Had never shown it to anyone else. Even the owner. It was only for him and him alone.

 

But he didn’t have long to enjoy it. He moved the other from his hips gently. It was time.

 

“So you better get to work, Q-chan.”

 

“I would have, even without you telling me to, Bloom-san.”

 

With the honorifics back in place, they slipped out of the past and back into the present. The lights in the room went back on and both he and Q were dressed and groomed. It was as if nothing had ever happened. As if time had stopped just the moment before the lights had gone out in the changing room earlier and was only starting to move again now.

 

“If there is nothing else I can do for you, I shall take my leave then, Bloom-san. You should rest for the night, for the curtain will surely rise again before tomorrow’s show.” Q bowed.

 

Bloom shook his head. “I will retire for the night. Good night.”

 

They shared one last, long, meaningful look before they parted ways - for now. Until the next time they met again somewhere in the shadows, in a place that was dangerously close to the Underworld, the world where they could at least pretend to have a little bit of freedom. Where they could pretend that the rules of Club SLAZY didn’t exist. Where they could pretend to be different people. Or was it a place where they could be the people they really were? Who knew.

**Author's Note:**

> I think there are a lot of things I might have to explain if you are not super familiar with Club SLAZY and its world but I think that would get very, very long. So if you have specific questions, feel free to leave a comment and I will be happy to answer you!
> 
> I will however put this here because it is an essential part of Club SLAZY (and its concept):
> 
> **Club SLAZY A to Z**
> 
> A - Act (Top Ace)  
> B - Bloom (Top Ace [Substitute], Second Ace)  
> C - Cool Beans (Third Star)  
> D - Deep (Fourth Star), DooBop (former NJ, now {spoiler})  
> E - End (Fifth Star), Eyeball (former Lazy, now Odd's Shadow)  
> F - Fly (NJ)  
> G - Graf (NJ)  
> H - Hop (NJ), Heads (NJ)  
> I - I-ght (NJ)  
> J - Junior (youngest Mystic in the history of Club SLAZY), "The J's": Jiggy, Juke, Jasper  
> K - King (former Top Ace)  
> L - Lazy/Lazies (the top 5 performers of Club SLAZY)  
> M - Mystics  
> N - New Jacks  
> O - Odds (former Second Ace, [Substitute] Manager)  
> P - Peaps (former NJ)  
> Q - Q (head of the Mystics [?])  
> R - Riddle (NJ), Reti (NJ)  
> S - Shadow  
> T - Tori  
> U - Underworld  
> V - V.P. [Visual Police] (former Second Ace, currently a Mystic?)  
> W - Will (former Top Ace)  
> X - [Mr] X (Owner, Manager)  
> Y - Ya (former Top Ace, former Manager)  
> Z - Zs (former Second Ace, Manager)


End file.
